"Okay, so let me get this straight." Steve Rogers rubbed his forehead as he leaned against the front door of my house in Dakota. "You want me to go inside your house, walk up the stairs to your bedroom, take this little Ziploc bag," he held up a clear baggie with all four rings inside, "and put them into a shoebox that resides under your bed?"

"Yes." I said simply, standing on the sidewalk, in front of the steps that led into my house.

His eyebrow knit together. "And you can't do this because…?"

I gave a slight and an awkward shrug of my shoulders. "I'm not ready to go inside yet."

Or to walk up the front steps, apparently, Steve thought, giving me a once over before pushing himself from the door. "Alright."

"Wait, really?" My eyes widened in surprise. "You're not going to fight me on this?"

Steve gave a quick shake of his head. "No. Who am I to say when you're ready?" He opened the front door, and disappeared inside before I could say anything else.

For a moment, Steve just let the atmosphere of the house envelope him. It was homey, but in a weird way. The living room was clearly lived in, but the layer of dust that had begun to settle on everything twisted that warm feeling of 'home' into something eerie that he could not quite describe. He took a few tentative steps toward the staircase, noticing the stacks of DVDs and books that littered the room, with the occasional article of clothing lying forgotten on the couch and the floor. As he stepped up the stairs, the portraits of Andi with a man with blonde hair made him stop. He had never seen a real smile on her face before, but she was smiling brightly in every picture that she shared with the blonde man.

"That's probably Johnny." Steve mumbled to himself. A tiny smirk pulled at his mouth, "He kind of looks like me."

There were more pictures, a few with her among someone else's family (weird?), and then one of a couple of kids. The boy was a bit older than the girl, but he held her close in front of a Christmas tree with a sweater and a smile that matched hers. It was then that Steve stopped in the middle of the stairway and took in all of the pictures again.

Smiling.

Smiling.

Smiling.

Laughing.

Smiling.

Surprised.

Laughing.

Laughing.

"So," Steve mused as he resumed his way up the stairs. "That's what she looks like when she's happy."

When he reached the second floor, Steve found more pictures, this time of an older woman who looked nothing like anyone in Andi's other pictures. A few photos showed this woman with some children, some of her with an older man at some tourist spots, and then there was one of her and Andi. Andi looked younger, and not exactly excited to be there, but the older woman had a bright smile, and held her close as if she was one of her own.

Right next to that picture was a door that was slightly ajar. Steve gently nudged the door open, and immediately knew he was in the right place. There were some clothes on the floor, the bed was not made, and the lamp on the nightstand was still on.

"She's kind of messy, isn't she?" Steve smirked to himself as he kicked some clothes out of his way so he could turn the lamp off. He kneeled down and looked under the bed. There were a few shoe boxes underneath the bed, but the one that had, "ANDI DON'T YOU DARE" written all over it caught his eye.

"Well that wasn't too hard." He grabbed the box, flipped the top open, and stopped again.

In the box was another ring. An engagement ring. One that had a diamond as the middle of a flower. And under that ring was a handwritten note, which read:

"If you ever have the guts to open this box, know that I am sorry about what happened. It's not fair to you. But, I wanted to give this to you as a show of good faith. It will happen. Just give it some time. Love, Johnny, 75."

"Hey! Can you hurry up please?!" My sudden voice made him jump and fumble the box.

"I wasn't supposed to see that. I was not supposed to see that." He fumbled over his words, and dropped the ziplock baggie into the shoe box.

Steve scrambled to his feet and hurried his way down the stairs, passed my memories of old, and slammed the front door behind him.

The moment he saw my knitted eyebrows and questionable look, his face broke out into a guilty smile.

"What did you do?" I accused him with a sigh.

"Nothing! Why would you even assume I did anything?" He answered just a little too quickly.

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, you know what, whatever. Just as long as you didn't break anything."

He quickly shook his head. "I didn't break anything, I swear!"

"Huh," I gave him a side eye as I turned away and started walking away. "I thought Captain America didn't like to swear."

A small smirk played on Steve's lips as he began to follow me.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Peter, this is ridiculous-"

"Tonight on CBC, live coverage from the incident in Stamford, Connecticut-"

"Danny's right, you guys are-"

"Commissioner Gordon, how is the city going to pay for the damages-"

"How could you betray me like that! I thought-"

"Let's see what Grapes thinks, next, on Coach's Corner-"

"Would you just pick something already?" I groaned from my bed.

We had gotten another hotel, this time somewhere in Toronto. Steve thought it was a good idea to move in case anyone else was looking for me. I was literally off Earth for weeks. If anyone was looking for me, they would have given up by now.

"I am trying!" He defended, clicking through more channels. "Everything on these televisions is just so…"

"Boring?" I offered. "Not interesting? Terribly repetitive?"

He scoffed, "Yeah. Exactly." A smirk grew on his face. He flipped through a few more channels before turning off the television. "Want to go see a movie instead?"

"No. I don't really like being in public."

"You don't seem to like a lot of things."

I smirked and turned over on my side, facing away from him. "Rude."

Steve smiled softly. "Never said I was a gentleman."

I scoffed. "You're Captain freaking America! You are like, the epitome of politeness!"

"I know a lot of people who would disagree with you." He retorted playfully.

A loud and annoying ringing came from Steve's side of the room. He patted around in his pockets until he pulled out a black flip phone.

"Rogers." He greeted.

I could hear someone mumble to him on the phone, but I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying.

"No, she hasn't surfaced yet. I'll stay on it though."

Did he just lie about me? Or, rather, for me?

"I understand, this is serious."

And then he was silent for a while, listening intently to whatever the other person on the phone was saying. By the way his eyes hardened and how his eyebrows knit together, he was not thrilled about what he was hearing.

"Okay." He mumbled, and then snapped his phone shut. He took a quick breath before turning to me. "I have to go."

I had not moved. "You do?"

"Yeah," He exhaled. "There's been an incident with some young heroes in Connecticut. Apparently it's a huge deal, the federal government wants to get involved. They need all hands on deck."

"Do I-"

No," he immediately cut me off. "As far as they know, you're still missing. So, if I were you I would lay low for a little while."

I finally turned to look at him. He was not a happy camper right now. "Thank you."

"It's the least I can do."

He stood up and began packing his bag to leave. I followed him with my eyes for a moment, and then turned to look back at the ceiling. "I'll probably keep the room here for a while. You know, in case you need somewhere to go. When you're done, of course."

A smile played at his lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed to the door.

Just as he opened the door, I leapt from the bed and bounded over to him. Without warning, I latched on to him in a tight hug. My arms wrapped around his neck. I had to stand on my toes to reach him. His arms snaked around me and pulled me close. I nuzzled into the nape of his neck.

Steve put his lips to the crown of my head, and took in my scent. Of course she would smell like rain, he mused to himself.

Not going to lie, I was going to miss his company.

As if reading my mind, he admitted, "I'm going to miss you."

I nodded my head vigorously into his shoulder, "I'm going to miss you too."

"I'll be back as soon as I can." He repeated, this time in a hushed tone.

I could feel the blush creep up to my cheeks. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to."

He pulled away and smiled at me. "Yeah, but I want to though."

A small smile broke on my face. "You do?"

His grin widened. "Yeah, I haven't had this much fun with someone in a while."

"You think lying about and watching TV all day is fun?"

Steve gave a slight nod and shrugged his shoulders. "It is when I get to do it with you." He turned back to the front door and grabbed the doorknob. "Stay hidden, okay?"

I nodded, "Stay safe."

He threw a small smile my way before he left.

I was all alone.

Again.

I lasted about an hour by myself before I caved. If this time apart from everyone has taught me anything, I have learned that I really do not like being by myself. Sure I can put on a good show when I need to. But when you are alone, there is no one to distract you. There is nowhere to run. It is just you. Maybe this makes me a coward, but I am just not ready to face myself and my new reality. Not yet.

I called Bruce back.

He picked up after one ring.

Where I expected him to come at me, guns blazing, a million questions and lectures being hurled at me, he met me with nothing but silence. Almost like he was not sure if I was actually on the other end.

It took me a minute before I tested the water. "Bruce?"

There was a soft sigh of relief on the other end. "Hey Andi."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Six Hours Later

The room I was left in was all too familiar to me. Of course I was a lot younger the last time I was here. But, as is the status quo in Gotham, nothing ever changes.

The Gotham City Police Department's interrogation room has always been a very sterile looking place. It had the typical two-way mirror, and a metal table and chairs, but the room itself had cinder block walls, which made it feel more like a prison than a semi-helpful police department.

And even though there was a lot of noise and movement happening outside in the bullpen, the only sound that resonates within these walls is the pulsing of the lone occupant's blood flow.

Fuck I hate this room.

"It's been a long time." A familiar gravely voice said behind me.

I would know that voice anywhere.

Commissioner James Gordon made his way around the table and sat across from me. There was a sad smile on his face. His hair was definitely a bit more grey, there were more wrinkles around his eyes. His eyes. They looked so tired. I hadn't seen him in seven or eight years, but now I wish I had made the time. Those years weren't too kind to him.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited." My voice was low and raspy.

He nodded slowly. "It's okay. I haven't called." Gordon pulled a small notebook and a pen out of his suit coat pocket and placed them on the table. "So," He started, flipping to the first page. "It's been a long night."

"That it has." I agreed, leaning back and crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm sorry that it's this room, by the way. I requested a different room for you, but being commissioner only gets me so far. ."

A miniscule smile appeared on my face. "I appreciate that. But it's okay. I'm a big girl now, I'll survive a couple hours here."

"Okay then." He smiled and picked up the pen. "So, why don't we start from the beginning?"

"Right," I nodded and leaned forward, propping my elbows onto the table. "So I've been gone for a while-"

"Where did you go?" Jim interrupted me.

I paused for a second, a little taken aback. "Is that really necessary information?"

"All of the information you can give me is necessary." His eyes did not hold the same warmth they did when he walked into the room. This was not Jim anymore. This was Commissioner Gordon. "So, where did you go?"

"I was in Canada."

He wrote something down. "What were you doing there?"

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. "Attending the Stratford Shakespeare Festival."

"How long were you there?"

I shrugged. "A couple weeks."

"Where did you stay?"

I shook my head. "That's not pertinent information and you know it, Commissioner." A very small smile played at my lips.

He saw it. "Sorry, I couldn't help but pry."

"Mhm," I nodded and readjusted in my seat. "Next question, please."

Gordon flipped to a new page. "Okay, let's skip ahead. How did you end up at the circus?"

I took a slow breath before answering. "Bruce asked me to go. He had a pair of tickets, he wanted to make an appearance, and he wanted to lure me out of hiding. I was feeling pretty lonely and vulnerable, so I agreed."

He nodded. "What happened next?"

"It was really loud in there. There were a lot of people, children screeching and running all over the place, and it was all very overwhelming. I didn't want to go in, but I promised Bruce that I would try. Once we got settled and the show started it wasn't so bad. But...then the acrobats came out." I paused for a moment and breathed. Just say what happened.

Gordon remained silent, scribbling his notes.

A small, sad smile carved itself onto my face. "The kid was pretty cute, he looked really happy. Like he was having fun." My breath hitched. Keep it together, Andi. "And then...I don't really know what happened. The parents were swinging, and uh," My eyebrows knit together. "I don't know. The ropes just...snapped. And...they fell." I shifted in my seat again. "There was a lot of screaming, and people ran. The ringmaster grabbed and held the kid, who just tried everything to get away from him. Bruce and I just sat there and stared. And then the police came, so, that's all I know."

The Commissioner nodded. He sat back in his chair and kept quiet for a moment. "You know," he began in a whisper. "The kid is going to end up in the system."

Fuck. I sighed, "Why?"

Gordon shrugged his shoulders and closed his notebook. "He has no family. You of all people know what happens when kids have no family." He began to stand up and gave me a small, almost knowing smile. "It's really good to see you again, Andi. Hopefully next time it'll be under better circumstances."

I leapt from my chair and grabbed onto him before he could leave the room. My arms snaked under his suit coat and I buried my face into his shirt. He still used the same cologne. His arms wrapped around me, one of his hands holding my back, and the other cupping the back of my head. Gordon gently pet my head, and I let out a shuddering breath I did not know I was holding, sinking further into his embrace.

"You doing okay there, kid?" He asked gently.

I shook my head in his chest. "No."

"Do you want to talk about it? Off the record, of course." He lightly chuckled and it made me smile.

I hesitated for a moment. Should I say anything? He probably wouldn't understand. "I just," my head came up from his comforting chest. "I'm just really...heartbroken. And I don't know if I will ever stop feeling like this."

Hey.

I said it.

Proud of you, Andi.

Gordon held me just the tiniest bit tighter. "Is it a guy? I'll kick his ass." A surprising chuckle burst from me. "I know I've got some years on me, but I can still hold my own."

"It's fine, Gordon." I appeased. "It wasn't his fault."

He pulled away enough to look me in the eye. "Doesn't matter. You don't deserve to feel like that. Nobody does. But hey, if you ever feel like this guy needs a good punch to the gut, my offer will stand."

I had to close my eyes for a second to keep from crying again. "Thank you, I will definitely let you know." I pulled out of the hug completely, and wrapped my arms around my chest.

Gordon cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "Does um...our friend know?"

"Are you kidding?" I chuckled again, wiping away a tear that managed to escape. "Yeah I'm heart broken, but I don't want the guy dead."

He nodded. "Fair enough." A quiet beeping sound erupted from Gordon's arm. He looked at his wrist watch, and then brought his attention back to me. "Unfortunately, I have to go talk with the kid's social worker. But, if you ever need anything, give me a call. I will always answer the phone for you."

For the first time in a while, a wide and genuine smile came across my face. "I really missed you, Gordon."

His eyes brightened. "I missed you too, kid."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Please, you must keep looking! He's still out there, I know it!"

"There is a menace in my building! One of those powered kids!"

"I already told you. I was just walking! Is walking a crime now?"

"I haven't seen my mommy and daddy in a really long time. I came home from day camp and they weren't there. And then I waited and they didn't come home, and they weren't there the next day, or the next day, and I don't know what to do."

"Are you serious? He robbed my store! You can see his face on the video!"

"Officer, you have to let me go! My sister is home alone and she doesn't know where I am. Please! She can't be left alone! She'll hurt herself!"

Oh.

My.

God.

I have a headache.

This place is so loud. I get that people have problems, but do they have to constantly complain about them? I know, I know. Pot, meet Kettle.

"Ma'am, we have searched that crash site a dozen times. I'm sorry, but there weren't any survivors."

"Having powers does not automatically make anyone a 'menace,' sir."

"There's a warrant out for your arrest, that's why you were picked up."

"Honey, you did the right thing by coming here, okay? We're going to help you. Now, how many days have you been alone?"

"Sir, I understand that you are upset, but we still have to question witnesses and gather more evidence before we arrest someone."

"Listen Buddy, we all have other places that we need to be right now. But it was your decision to drive your car while you were under the influence."

I would not want to be a cop either. You are either a bastard for doing your job, or you do your job because you are a bastard. There is never an inbetween. Whenever I see Gordon doing an interview on the news, all of the reporters and citizens just shit on him. They complain about the crime, the destruction caused by the people that keep breaking out of Arkham, and how Batman would be better suited for the commissioner job, blah blah blah.

It really pisses me off. There is no person in this universe that is better than James Gordon. No matter how much people hate him and want to replace him, he will just smile, thank them for their opinion, pat them on the shoulder, and keep working.

Ugh. God.

How much longer is Bruce going to be in questioning? It feels like it's been an hour-

"You're still here." A deep, flat voice said to my right.

My head shot up and I saw him. His designer suit was wrinkled, silk tie undone, his hair a mess, and he looked tired. He always looks so tired.

I turned away and nodded slightly. "Yeah."

Bruce sat down next to me on the bench by the holding cell. "Figured you would have disappeared by now."

"I wanted to see you." I shrugged my shoulders off-handedly. "I missed talking to you."

"I missed talking to you too." He murmured, keeping his eyes forward to the constant bedlam of the bullpen.

The sounds of clicking keyboards, phones ringing, and people experiencing the worst day of their lives settled between us. It was unnerving, even for people like Bruce and I.

Bruce leaned toward me. "This place sucks, right?"

"Oh my god, yes!" I agreed, exasperated. "This place is the worst!"

"And it's really loud in here too, right?"

I lightly hit his arm. "Yes! I was just thinking that before you came out here."

He let out a soft chuckle. I honestly cannot remember the last time I heard him laugh.

"Hey, are you hungry? We could get something to eat."

I stared ahead to the door that Gordon had gone through over an hour ago, once my interrogation was over. "Yeah, but I just need a minute."

"What's going on?" Bruce's eyes followed mine to the door across the room.

"Gordon's talking to the kid's social worker. They're talking about putting him in the system."

He groaned. "Shit, that poor kid." He leaned back and was silent, his eyes never leaving that door.

I looked over to him and there was this look on his face I had not seen in a while. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes focused, a slightly frown. And then, without warning, he stood up and began walking toward the room.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I called after him.

"Returning a favor." Bruce replied. Then he opened the door and closed it behind him without looking back.